Текст книги "The Raven Collection"

Автор книги: James Barclay

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Текущая страница: 218 (всего у книги 235 страниц)

‘Need I remind you that if one hair of either head is so much as breathed upon, I will rip your fucking head off.’ Sol glanced at Jonas. ‘Apologies for my language.’

Jonas shrugged. ‘We need to go.’

Sol nodded and moved to the portal. Denser stayed the hand of one of his guards with a shake of the head and a knowing look.

‘One last chance for redemption, Denser. Come with us. We are stronger with you.’

‘Sorry, Sol. Xetesk is where true strength lies. I think I’ll stay where I’m likely to stay alive.’

‘If you remember one thing, remember this,’ said Sol. ‘The Raven never get it wrong.’

Sol and Jonas stepped past Sha-Kaan’s head, the dragon withdrew it into the Klene and the portal snapped shut.

Chapter 21

With Jonas anchoring the Balaian end of the Klene, it was a stable, secure edifice. With him standing inside when the link to Balaia was broken, it became as a loose end of rope flailing in the gale of inter-dimensional space. Sha-Kaan did his best to moderate the buffeting but, with the Klene only tethered in Beshara, it was a bumpy ride.

‘I have to find safe purchase quickly or return to Beshara,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘We are vulnerable this way.’

‘Who can you feel?’ asked Jonas.

Sol and Jonas were each being held in one of Sha-Kaan’s front claws. The great dragon was being as gentle as he could but with each violent shift of the Klene, the claws tightened reflexively. Sol could focus on nothing. The pain in his back was immense and the shuddering and shaking of the Klene made him nauseous.

‘Old friends,’ said Sha-Kaan, and the wistful quality of his voice brought a smile to Sol’s lips. ‘The great Septern and Hirad Coldheart. So long dead it is both pleasure and pain to feel their minds once more.’

‘Go for Hirad,’ said Sol. ‘He’ll have Ilkar with him. We can work out what we need to do.’

‘I will see what I can do,’ rumbled Sha-Kaan. ‘His mind is not as tuned as once it was.’

Even through his pain, Sol had to suppress a laugh. ‘Hirad, tuned? When did that ever happen?’

‘He had more ability about him than you know,’ chided Sha-Kaan.

‘I miss Hirad’s talents every day,’ said Sol.

The Klene bounced once before ceasing its random movement. Sol breathed deeply, his stomach settling, his eyes able to focus.

‘I have him,’ said Sha-Kaan.

The Klene was smaller than Sol remembered. Still grand with its huge fireplaces, Kaan crests, mural-painted walls and oppressive heat but somehow lessened.

‘What happened to all the drapery and antechambers?’ asked Sol.

‘We are not as strong as once we were,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘We can no longer afford such excess.’

Sol caught Jonas’s eye and saw the sadness there.

‘I am a very old dragon,’ continued Sha-Kaan. ‘It is inevitable.’

Sha-Kaan released the pair of them and Sol felt at the wound in his back.

‘Jonas, come and help your father, would you? Tell me what you can see.’

Sol pulled up his shirt at the back. Jonas took in a sharp breath.

‘You need attention, Father. That must hurt.’

‘What is it?’

‘Splinters of wood. Some quite big, really. Do you want me to—?’

Sol felt a touch on his back and winced.

‘No, no. Don’t move them. I’ve lost enough blood as it is. Dammit.’

Sol moved onto his hands and knees. The pain eased a little. He crawled across to the wall of the Klene and lay down on his side.

‘Hardly the heroic arrival I’d envisaged,’ he muttered.

The main door to the Klene swung back. Fresh air flooded in. Sha-Kaan rumbled happily to himself and shifted forward a little way. Four figures appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the light. Others were clustering outside. There was a hubbub of voices. Sol managed a smile when he saw Hirad’s face. It might have been the face of a dead merchant but the joy in the eyes and the display of every rotting tooth in his mouth was the old Hirad, pure and simple.

‘Sha-Kaan,’ Hirad said. ‘Now here’s something worth coming back to life for.’

He walked in and placed a hand on the tip of Sha-Kaan’s muzzle. Ilkar, Sirendor and Auum were just behind him. If Sha-Kaan was perturbed by the sight of his old Dragonene, he did not show it. The great dragon pushed forward fractionally, dumped Hirad on the seat of his breeches and laughed, a huge guttural sound more akin to a building falling than anything else.

‘Very funny, Sha,’ said Hirad, standing again.

‘It is good to feel you again,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘The body is substandard, frail human, but your soul is every bit as strong. Well met.’

‘What are you doing here? The Garonin after you too, are they?’

‘They are failing to beat us on Beshara. But not here. You need help.’ Sha-Kaan inclined his head fractionally in Sol’s direction. ‘And your king needs attention now.’

Sol waved weakly. ‘Good to see you lot. Ilkar, a little help?’

Ilkar trotted over, leaving Hirad talking to Sha-Kaan.

‘The best help you can give us is torching Denser. Bastard traitor is going to kill us all,’ Hirad was saying.

‘Killing him will not solve your problem,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘My Dragonene reaching a new safe dimension will. That will secure the future for us all. That is where we must focus our efforts.’

Sol tried to raise himself to speak but his head was too foggy. Ilkar’s hand on his shoulder was enough to stop him trying further.

‘Don’t move, Unknown, you’re a bit of a mess.’

‘Will he be all right?’ asked Jonas.

Sol nodded. Ilkar didn’t.

‘Ilkar is a fine healer. Watch and learn,’ said Sol. He caught Ilkar’s expression. ‘What’s up? A quick bit of wood extraction and some Healing Hands should do the trick. Easy for you.’

‘You don’t know, do you?’

‘Know what?’

‘Julatsa has fallen. The Garonin have taken the Heart. Nothing I try is easy any more.’

Sol sighed and moved a hand to squeeze Ilkar’s forearm. ‘It all starts to make sense, doesn’t it? Sorry, Ilkar. But we knew it was coming, didn’t we?’

‘I feel empty, Unknown,’ said Ilkar. ‘Hollow. And the void wind is stronger now. I’m not sure how much longer I can cling on to this body.’

‘Try and keep strong,’ said Sol. ‘Look, I’ll be fine. Just bandage me up or something.’

Ilkar’s expression turned to one of slighted hurt. ‘I may have lost my college but I think I can do a little better than bandages, Unknown. Now try and relax and don’t say anything. I need to concentrate.’

Sol winked at him and settled down onto his front to give Ilkar room to work.

‘Sha-Kaan, we need to get the dead that Denser rounded up away from here. All Xetesk’s returned dead. Hundreds of them. Just outside the walls of the city is far enough. They have to be close enough to feel the souls of those who brought them back. Can you do it?’

Sha-Kaan grumbled in his throat. ‘Travel without the beacon of a Dragonene is difficult. Tiring.’

‘We can’t leave them. They’re trapped in the city and right in the path of the Garonin.’

‘I will not know when I have travelled far enough,’ said Sha-Kaan.

‘Oh you will,’ said Hirad. ‘Because every one of them will start to scream when the pain in their souls grows unbearable. Then it’s time to stop.’

Sha-Kaan considered for a moment. ‘Bring them inside.’

Hirad ran to the door. Sol could hear him shouting for the dead to come in, not to be afraid. The latter would be difficult for them.

‘And afterwards. After I have ferried them to safety. What must we do?’ asked Sha-Kaan.

‘Find a Wesman Shaman able to perform the ritual of opening,’ said Ilkar.

Sol coughed. ‘No.’

‘What did I just say?’ said Ilkar. ‘Hold still and shut up. This is delicate, all right? Jonas, can you give me a hand? I need you to staunch the blood while I cast.’

‘Hold on,’ said Sol. ‘Hirad. I’m not leaving my wife and son in Xetesk to die.’

‘There’s no time, Unknown; you know that.’

Sol tensed. ‘Then we have to make time. I’m not sacrificing my life until I know my family will be safe.’

‘What are you talking about, Father?’

Sol closed his eyes, cursing himself for a fool.

‘Father?’

‘Do you trust me, Jonas?’

‘I love you, Father. I won’t let you die.’

Sol blinked back his tears. ‘Trust me now. Help me. Be brave and be strong. We have a lot of work to do.’

Jonas nodded but there was confusion in his face. ‘Tell me what to do.’

Hirad was walking back into the Klene. The dead were following him, albeit rather reluctantly.

‘Sol.’ It was Auum.

‘Yes, my friend.’

‘I will find your wife and son. I will see them to safety. Don’t go back to the inn. Come east. Seek me.’

Sol nodded, wincing as Ilkar probed his injury a little roughly.

‘I am in your debt.’

Auum bowed. ‘Any debt was repaid a very long time ago.’

The TaiGethen leader turned and trotted out of the Klene, hurrying the last of the dead inside, where they stood in fear, crowding as far from Sha-Kaan as they could. Behind them the Klene door clunked shut.

‘Hang on,’ said Hirad. ‘We’re going for a little ride.’

‘Now is the time of our greatest peril.’

Denser’s voice boomed out from the top of his tower. The Intonation spells turned every flat surface into an amplifier for his words. His voice carried out over the college, across the apron and into the wider city beyond. He was a just a speck from Diera’s vantage point just inside the college gates. She hadn’t wanted to hear him but knew she had to. Young Hirad, holding her hand tight, was at her side, and she hadn’t missed the positioning of three college guards nearby. Life with Sol had taught her many and varied things.

The crowd that had gathered after the entire college guard had walked every street, summoning the population to hear their Lord, was easily fifteen thousand strong, probably twenty thousand. Perhaps eight thousand were Xeteskian born and bred, survivors of the demon invasion and utterly loyal. The rest were refugees and migrants, curious and anxious.

‘But it is also the time of our greatest opportunity. Any of you who have come to our great city for protection will know first hand how dangerous and deadly our foe is. But their advance will break against the walls of Xetesk. We are prepared and we are strong. We will defeat them.

‘And from the ashes Balaia will grow again. Stronger and better than ever before. Under the leadership of Xetesk as the lone college of magic, there will be an end to magical conflict. There will be stability and there will be order. There will be growing wealth for all those who work with us.

‘We don’t want to rule this great country. We want to lead you forward to a brighter future where you can make every choice yourself. But for that to happen, I need your trust. And I make you this promise. Xetesk will protect you in the days to come. We will keep you safe and we will keep you from becoming hungry or thirsty. And when the battle is done, we further pledge to reward you for all that you do for Xetesk.

‘And now I ask you, Xetesk, my brothers and sisters, are you with us?’

Diera had to admit the roar of approval was impressive. Hirad cheered too. She kept her mouth firmly closed.

‘Please, my people, enough,’ said Denser, and his voice cast a shroud over the noise. ‘Our time is short before the Garonin are at our gates. We must all pull together. Next follows instruction on how you can help and where you must go when the general alarm sounds. Listen closely because your lives truly are at stake.’

Diera felt movement around her and she clutched Hirad in front of her. Gentle hands touched her arms.

‘My lady Diera, here is no longer safe for the wife and son of The Unknown Warrior.’ An elf stood in front of her. He seemed to have appeared from nowhere. ‘I am Auum. Do you remember me?’

Relief cascaded through Diera’s body. ‘Yes, of course I do. Sol said you were in the city. Surely you are a divisive element under the new terms pushed under my door. Haven’t they arrested you?’

Auum raised his eyebrows. ‘They have tried. Come with us; we will keep you safe.’

They began to make their way back through the crowd to the gates of the college. Guards tracked them all the way. And others. Mages planted in the crowd. Auum’s hand moved minutely. His Tai disappeared.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Somewhere quiet,’ said Auum.

‘Sol will come back for me. I need to wait at the inn.’

‘No. The college is watching your home. Trust me. Your husband knows where to find you.’

Auum led her quickly through the crowds massed around the gates and across the apron. Diera could see others moving in the periphery of her vision.

‘We’re being followed,’ she said.

‘Yes.’

Auum headed for one of the east-facing alleys that snaked away from The Thread. Home to tenements and warehousing mainly, they were a quiet, narrow maze where only the unwary would tread after dark, even this close to the college itself. Auum upped his pace. Once inside the alley, the noise of the crowd diminished. Another voice was speaking from the tower. Diera caught snatches of it and didn’t much care for what she was hearing.

‘What’s going to happen to the city?’

‘Denser thinks to raze it to the ground in an effort to stop the unstoppable,’ said Auum. ‘Stand over there, under that overhang.’

Diera led Hirad to where she was directed. Despite the bright sunlight, the alley was gloomy and frightening. Buildings leaned across it from both sides. The ground was mainly mud with weeds and tufts of grass here and there. The overhang sheltered a pair of doors on runners that let into a warehouse. Diera backed into the shadows and pulled Hirad close to her. The little boy was too scared to utter a sound and clung on to her arms, digging his fingers into her flesh.

‘It’ll be all right,’ she said, though it looked anything but.

Auum had stopped about ten yards from the entrance to the alley and had turned to face it. Diera heard careful footsteps. One by one, eight men appeared. Six guards and behind them two mages in skullcaps and long dark robes. Old Xetesk garb. She shuddered.

‘You have one chance to turn and go,’ said Auum. ‘You will not be harmed.’

‘A lone elf is in no position to make bargains,’ said one of the guards. He signalled behind him. ‘Cast at will.’

‘You are mistaken,’ said Auum. ‘A TaiGethen is never alone.’

Two shapes dropped from the rooftops at the end of the alley. A blur of movement and both mages crumpled. Auum moved, his speed truly startling. The guard in front of him had no time even to raise his sword to his waist. Auum’s blade flickered in the mottled gloom and he buried it to the hilt in the guard’s neck. Diera covered Hirad’s eyes.

‘Every guard is to be valued and respected,’ came the voice from the tower. ‘No violence against them can be tolerated. Every mage is one who might just save your life.’

Auum had not paused. He dragged his blade clear, dropped and swept the legs from under another guard. A second blade was in his other hand. He rose and stabbed down. The guard’s cry was cut off. He jerked and was still. Auum was still rising. He twisted in the air and kicked out straight, catapulting a third guard backwards. His Tai’s blades whispered. The guard was dead before he hit the ground.

Three remained. Their confidence was gone. Two of them dropped their swords and held out their hands.

‘No prisoners,’ said Auum.

His Tai brought each man down. Blades bit into throats. Blood surged out over the ground. One more. He clutched his blade in both hands and faced Auum. The elf nodded and brought his blades to the ready. The guard struck forward. Auum was not there. One of his blades knocked aside the powerful thrust. The other swept through the back of the man’s neck from close quarters. He fell without a sound.

Diera mouthed silently. She had seen fighting before. She had seen Sol kill four men in a similar alley in the port town of Arlen years ago. That had been shocking in its brutality. But the speed of the violence she had just witnessed was terrifying. Sol had said the TaiGethen were the fastest he had ever seen. He had not done them justice.

‘I am sorry you had to see that but I could not have you any further from us. Enemies are all around.’ Auum cleaned and sheathed his blades. ‘Ghaal, Miirt. Ahead. Bring the cleaner team to clear this alley.’

‘Why did you have to do that? They had surrendered to you. That’s murder.’

Auum’s face bore no guilt.

‘We cannot risk discovery.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Come,’ he said. ‘Trust me.’

Auum trotted away down the alley. Diera shuddered as she turned her back on the bodies and followed him. Hirad seemed happy to run. It relieved the tension in both of them. The base of the alley opened out into a small square. Gated and fenced gardens were at its centre and it was ringed by the houses of the wealthy, all shuttered and dark. Shapes moved on the roofs. Like cats only much bigger.

Auum crossed the cobbled street and into the gardens. Diera followed him. Through the trees was an ornamental lawn. She stumbled to a stop and once again clutched Hirad to her. The boy had started to cry and tried to crawl up her body. There were wolves. Lots of them. And a man in their centre with his hand ruffling the fur of a pair of them like they were nothing more than pet dogs. The man smiled at her.

‘Diera,’ he said.

‘Thraun?’ she said, fear turning to hope. ‘Is that you?’

‘Back and running with the pack.’

Chapter 22

It felt like slipping into the most exquisite tailored clothes. The enemy were on his doorstep, his oldest friends presumably wanted him dead and the fate of Balaia rested squarely on his shoulders. And it felt now as if not a single stitch were out of place. Birthright, Dystran had just called it.

‘Destiny,’ said Brynar, who had been given a chance to redeem himself.

The word didn’t matter too much. The three of them clinked their cut crystal glasses, full of the finest Blackthorne red from the cellars, and drank.

‘You know the most amazing thing of all is the energy I feel. I really can do all that I have promised. I can rule here and make Xetesk a power to rival any other in any dimension, known or not. Birthright? More like reborn.’

‘But to be complete, to truly own Xetesk and by definition now, Balaia, to have the unwavering loyalty of the Circle Seven for long enough, there is one more thing you must do,’ said Dystran.

‘And what is that?’ asked Denser, mind bright with opportunity and hazy with authority. Damn it if he didn’t feel a little drunk.

Dystran indicated the three huge and ancient leather– and brass-bound books he had brought with him from the catacombs.

‘You have always been something of a rebel. Accommodated by such lords as Styliann because of your rather unique aptitude for Dawnthief. But the time has come, my Lord Denser, to write your name indelibly into the lore of this college. You must take the “y” into your name. Let it speak for the power you wield as it has done throughout the generations of our great college. Become a true Lord of Xetesk.’

He patted the book. Denser felt a frisson of discomfort. Ever since he could remember, he’d fought against this. Seen himself more as a fighter against the system. For a moment it was difficult to admit he now was the system.

‘It is not a big change,’ continued Dystran.

‘Wrong. It changes me forever.’

‘Surely that has already happened,’ said Dystran.

Denser considered briefly and then nodded. Dystran opened the book to display a double spread of pages. On the left-hand page, wrapped in ornate decoration, was his own name and beneath it those of the Circle Seven and other named mages and officers of influence or particular bravery or commendation. The page opposite was blank. Brynar had inked a pen and he gave it to Denser. Dystran turned the book to face him and held the page flat.

Denser bent to write then let the pen hover. He closed his eyes and fought his doubt. So many years about to be washed away. So much youthful anger and righteous thought. And it had brought him full circle. He suspected that Styliann, Nyer, Laryon – all of those who had nurtured and schooled him – had known all along. Presumably it was why they had tolerated him at all.

Denser put the pen to the heavy parchment and wrote in careful, Xeteskian lore script:

D-e-n-s-y-r

He leaned back when it was done and looked. Fitting. Entirely fitting.

‘You are so named,’ said Dystran. ‘I, Dystran . . .’

‘And I, Brynar.’

‘. . . witness the taking of “y by the mage Denser, who shall now be remembered in perpetuity through the lore of our college.’ Dystran took the book back and blotted Denser’s work expertly.

‘The scribes will do the rest. I think a full ceremony is out of the question until we are safe from the Garonin. Do you agree?’

Densyr nodded. ‘I do.’

‘And what are my Lord’s next wishes?’ asked Brynar.

Densyr looked out on a quiet Xeteskian evening. His people scurried about, doing his bidding, securing his city and seeking out the few dissenters.

‘Where are we with our – ahem – high-profile handful of rebels?’

Densyr had taken the news that the dead had departed en masse inside a dragon’s Klene with some relief. He didn’t much care where they had gone though he presumed it would not be far from the city. But what it did mean was that the blood of the dead, and more importantly The Raven, was no longer on his hands. And it might still deflect a portion of the enemy’s attention from the college.

‘We are yet to find where they are hiding this time,’ said Brynar. ‘General Suarav is confident they are scattered about the city.’

‘That is no basis for confidence and you can tell Suarav from me that I believe he is wrong. Blackthorne, Gresse, our TaiGethen friends . . . scattered, no. They are together and plotting something stupid, I have no doubt. I want them caught and incarcerated. Killed if they resist. They are taking precious resource from the city’s defence. Tell me you still have Diera and young Hirad under close observation?’

Brynar paused just a little too long. Densyr sighed.

‘My last report is of her in conversation with Auum of the TaiGethen. They were followed from the college but I have had no reports since.’

‘Terrific,’ said Densyr. ‘And you know why that is? It’s because anyone who followed them is undoubtedly dead. Did no one listen to me when I said the TaiGethen were dangerous? This isn’t steep-stairs dangerous. This is get-slaughtered-in-a-heartbeat-unless-you-are-unbelievably-careful dangerous. Am I clear?

‘And so Auum has Diera too. All I need now is Sol to come riding in on a white charger and my day will be complete.’

‘Um . . .’ began Brynar.

‘You’re about to tell me that’s already happened?’

‘No, but there were other reports following your speech and the instructions from General Suarav. Guards have reported people saying that there are wolves and panthers in the city.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Wol—’

‘I heard you. Go away. Dystran go with him. He clearly needs an older, wiser head to help him.’

‘Of course, my Lord Densyr,’ said Dystran. ‘Do you have any other requirements?’

‘I trust you, Dystran. Do what you consider needs doing. And send me Septern. I feel in need of good news. At least he won’t let me down.’

Densyr watched the two mages leave. The door closed behind them. He stood up, drained his glass and refilled it. He stood over the Book of Names. It held the name of every Lord of the Mount since the sundering. And now it held his. Living up to this was not going to be easy.

Densyr took his glass and walked out onto his balcony. Panthers. That meant ClawBound were loose. Not good. And wolves. Wolves just had to mean that Thraun was back and had found Diera too. Their bond would certainly be strong enough after all their shared time on Herendeneth. The years when Thraun was lost to himself.

Panthers or wolves. He found himself wondering which would be better and quicker at tearing out his throat. He was still itching at his neck when the door opened to admit Septern.

The Klene was being buffeted again by the void of inter-dimensional space. The dead had been left outside the walls of the city, no more than a mile distant, and asked to trust that The Raven could deliver their loved ones to them soon. The Raven, returning to Xetesk, had no idea how they were to make good on their promise.

Sha-Kaan’s and Jonas’s minds were locked together while the dragon sought Diera through him. All The Raven quartet could do was hang on and hope purchase was found soon. Sha-Kaan would be unable to make absolute connection with Diera so their landing was going to be hit and miss but it was better than nothing.

Sol, hanging on to one of Sha-Kaan’s forelimbs, couldn’t take his eyes off Jonas. His back throbbed and occasionally sent shooting pains throughout his body but Ilkar had done enough to give him some movement and had staunched the bleeding.

Jonas looked so terribly small where he lay in the crook of Sha-Kaan’s other forelimb. He was not conscious though he burbled and cried out from time to time. His face was pale and sweating and his breathing was too shallow and fast.

‘How long can he keep this up?’ asked Sol.

‘I will not let him suffer harm,’ said Sha-Kaan, opening one of his huge blue eyes, its centre a flat black slit. ‘He is strong. In his father’s image.’

‘And how’s it going?’ asked Hirad. ‘This is making me feel seasick.’

He and Sirendor had secured themselves to Sha-Kaan’s left rear claws with belts. Hirad was clutching the claw in both arms too. Sirendor appeared to be asleep, though how he was able to do that was beyond Sol. The Klene thumped again, like a ship on a down swell.

‘Frail human,’ rumbled Sha-Kaan. ‘We can sense Diera. We know she is calm and safe. But the city is not so large that I can open the Klene anywhere and expect to find her. If we are wrong by five per cent, we might find ourselves inside the college. Patience, my old friend. It will not be long.’

Sol smiled to himself. How gentle the great dragon was and how terrifying he had been when first they had encountered him. A lot of years ago now. But he had changed from the haughty king of his brood and user of man into something so rich and deep. Jonas loved him. Hirad did too. Sol could understand why, and a pang of jealousy crept into his heart for that which he could never fully know himself.

The Klene thumped again. Sol imagined it as a tail behind a behemoth, swishing this way and that, searching for a comfortable place to coil. And again. Sha-Kaan’s eye flicked open once more, and this time his pupil was narrow to the point of invisibility. A sound reverberated through the Klene like a distant impact. A second was much closer.

‘We are discovered,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘Prepare to—’

To Sha-Kaan’s right a section of the Klene crashed inwards. One of the huge fireplaces disappeared into fragments. A howling wind tore into the chamber, grabbing and sucking.

‘Hold on!’ shouted Sha-Kaan above the din of the gale.

The dragon’s neck twisted and his head darted towards the hole, which was as big as a house. Loose debris was being dragged out of the hole, through which Sol could see nothing but a roiling brown mass shot with pale flecks like snow. Sha-Kaan opened his mouth and discharged a searing tongue of flame into the void. The sound of screams was surely a figment of Sol’s imagination.

What wasn’t his imagination was the increase in the power of the wind in the Klene, nor the voracious nature of the hole in its side. The ragged edge was growing by the heartbeat. Sol saw pieces being torn away and sucked into the void. And Sha-Kaan was beginning to slide himself.

‘How do we stop this?’ yelled Sol, but the noise was far too great to be heard.

Like the scything of a mighty claw, a rent was dragged in the left-hand wall of the Klene. The wind of the void was all-consuming. It roared from side to side. It tore the mantels from the walls, ash from the grates and the Kaan crest from above the Great Kaan.

Down on the ground, Ilkar, Hirad and Sirendor were hanging on desperately to Sha-Kaan’s claws even while the dragon was being dragged slowly across the floor to the larger hole. Sha-Kaan’s head spun and he looked first at Jonas before twisting down to Sol.

‘We must make purchase on Balaia. Then I can fight.’

‘Anywhere,’ said Sol.

The Klene rattled as if some ancient God had picked it up and shaken it. Sol’s grasp was broken. Jonas, poor unconscious Jonas, was thrown like a rag doll into the teeth of the wind and sucked helplessly towards the gaping, expanding opening. Sha-Kaan roared.

‘Jonas!’ Sol cried and tried to steady himself.

Pressed against the floor, he found a little purchase. Above him, Sha-Kaan’s neck writhed and twisted as he fought to keep Jonas from being drawn into the void. But it was as if the wind had fingers and they plucked the boy away from him.

Sha-Kaan moved to place his bulk against the hole. A second rent appeared in the opposite wall. And a third. Sol saw the flash of metal beyond, just for a beat. Jonas had woken and was screaming for help. There was blood on his face. Sol didn’t pause. He sprang from the floor, diving upwards.

The wind caught him and propelled him further up. Jonas flashed by. Sol reached out a hand and grasped his son’s leg. Their combined weight brought them both down to the stone floor, hard. Sol landed back first, Jonas square on top of him, winding him. His wound flared pain.

‘It’s all right, son. It’s all right, I’ve got you.’ The stone floor shuddered. Slabs rippled and bucked. ‘Oh no.’

Sol turned his head where he lay. Sha-Kaan was moving across the floor towards them. Of Hirad, Sirendor and Ilkar, there was no sign. The Great Kaan’s head snaked out, mouth agape. A thundering crash reverberated through the Klene. The wind strengthened yet more. And Sol, with Jonas clinging to him, was sliding feet first along the floor.

‘Hang on!’

About ten yards ahead of them much of the floor had gone. They picked up speed. Sol tried to dig in his feet but there was no grip to be had on the polished stone. A shadow whipped overhead. Sha-Kaan’s head and neck arced past and thrust into the hole. Flame gorged out. He withdrew.

Sol’s slide was unstoppable. His back bumped over broken stone at the edge of the hole. He flailed with one hand and gripped briefly but the gale was too strong.

‘Close your eyes, Jonas. It’ll be over soon.’

Sol felt hot breath firing over his shoulder. His vision filled with scale and fangs and he was airborne once again. He grabbed Jonas even closer to him as they swung wildly in the air. Sha-Kaan’s neck withdrew to the formal ‘s’ shape and he reared high. Sol felt the bone of the dragon’s fangs scrape his shoulders and upper right arm. Sha-Kaan held him as lightly as he could.